


The Dog and Her Brother

by opalmatrix



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Community: help_japan, Competition, Creation, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Pre-Canon, Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-06
Updated: 2011-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early in the seventh era of the world, anything is possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dog and Her Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whymzycal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whymzycal/gifts).



> A birthday gift for [**whymzycal**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whymzycal), at the request of [**7veils**](http://7veils.dreamwidth.org/) and [**sharpeslass**](http://sharpeslass.livejournal.com/), who joined together to win my writing services in the LiveJournal **help_japan** auction in March 2011. The recipient's prompt was: _[S]omething with Mogget ... and the Disreputable Dog ..., around when they first met each other... sort of a battle of wits kind of a thing._ Beta by my sis [**smillaraaq**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/pseuds/Smillaraaq).
> 
>  **Warning:** _Serious_ spoilers for the nature and history of the two lead characters and for the pre-history of the world of the Old Kingdom in general (mostly from _Lirael_ and _Abhorsen_ ).

On a morning soft with green and growing life, in the seventh era of the world, Kibeth roamed a riverside in the form of a great dog. The scent of water filled the air, and rain began to fall, and up among the clouds, Kibeth could see her sister Astarael plying the sky in the form of a huge bird. Kibeth's heart leapt with the happiness of seeing Astarael at one with the joyfully weeping sky, and she grew wings herself and joined her elder sister. Together they soared to the tops of the rain clouds, and the cloud grew and multiplied with the beating of their mighty wings. The earth below them drank the water, the trees and herbs grew stronger, and the streams fed the rivers until the rivers roared. The lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, and Kibeth laughed with pleasure.

"Yrael would love this lightning," she said.

Astarael shrugged, although it is not easy for a great bird to shrug while in flight. "I don't know about _that,_ little Walker."

So Kibeth glided back to earth and went to find her younger brother. Yrael was dozing in the sun on a rock at the edge of a great desert.

"Yrael, Yrael!" called Kibeth, and Yrael sat up and yawned. He had the form of a little white cat. "What is it? I was just getting comfortable."

"You have been here asleep for hours, or maybe it's days," said Kibeth. "Come and fly with me and Astarael, and water the earth and its plants!"

Yrael shuddered. "That sounds _wet_ , Kibeth. Thank you, but no." He changed shape to a gleaming scorpion as white as ivory, and slid under the baking hot rock.

Kibeth nosed at the edge of the rock for a moment and then loped off in search of other company. As she raced from the desert to the grasslands, she heard the thunder of hooves, and she rejoiced to see her sibling Mosrael racing among a herd of wild horses, leading them to the sweet grasses along a river side. Kibeth became a horse too, and ran along with Mosrael and the herd. She stayed with them for weeks, delighting in the strength of her herd-mates and the new foals that were born, drumming her hard hooves on the fruitful earth. When the days grew long with summer, the horses basked in the sun, and Mosrael and Kibeth basked with them. Kibeth yawned with contentment.

"Yrael loves to bask in the sun," she said.

Mosrael open his eyes and then rolled them. "Perhaps, but only in his own time, little Walker."

So Kibeth left the sleek, sleepy horses and ran from the grasslands to seek her youngest brother. Yrael was napping under a patch of briars in a clearing in a forest.

"Yrael, Yrael!" called Kibeth, and Yrael rolled over and opened his bright cat's eyes. "Now what? I suppose you have some reason for waking me."

"It's been weeks and weeks since I've seen you," said Kibeth. "Come and run with me and Mosrael and the horses! A nap in the sun will be all the better afterward!"

Yrael wrinkled his nose. "That sounds like _work_ , Kibeth. Thank you, but no." He changed form into a pallid little toad with gleaming, jewel-bright eyes and hopped away under the brush and the briars.

Kibeth followed after him for a while, but then she sighed and wandered off in search of something else to do. The night came on, and in the wind she smelled her sister Ranna, who was gliding through the night sky as a great owl, silent as a thought. Kibeth became an owl also and joined her sister in the deepness of the dark beneath the bright spangles of the stars. Together they drifted over the sleeping earth and brought rest and dreams to hares, to hounds, to humankind. Kibeth's heart was at peace.

"Yrael loves to slumber and dream," she said.

Ranna sighed, with a sound like a tenor wind flute. "He takes his own path in everything, little Walker."

Even so, Kibeth drifted to the ground as softly as the snow and went to hunt up her youngest brother. Yrael was curled up snug in a small hillside cave, lined with dried bracken and ferns.

"Yrael, Yrael!" whispered Kibeth, piercingly, and Yrael raised his head and hissed softly. "Can't I even sleep the night through? Who am I supposed to follow now?

"I've been having the loveliest, most peaceful time with Ranna," said Kibeth. "Come and drift through the night and spread dreams with us!"

Yrael spat. "How _pointless._ I was drifting quite nicely on my own until you woke me up, Kibeth. Thank you, but no." He became a slender snow-white snake and vanished into a crevice at the back of the cave.

Kibeth sniffed at the crevice for a few minutes, but she decided not to follow him. She trotted along through hills and the valleys until she found the dawn. Dew was shining on some wild strawberries, and she snapped them up. From their taste, she knew that her sibling Belgaer was near, and she cast back and forth until she found that one. Belgaer was whispering to the bare earth, and patting it, and stroking it, and herbs and shrubs and young trees - all manner of plants - sprang up and spread their young leaves in the morning sun. Kibeth nuzzled the warming soil too, and patted it with her hand-shaped paws, and laughed to see the seedlings spring up, smelling green and fresh and delicious.

"Yrael is fond of things that smell tasty," she said.

Belgaer sank gracefully to the leafy ground. "I don't think he has much use for things with roots or flowers, little Walker."

Kibeth wagged her tail and then ran off to find her youngest brother. She found Yrael on a rocky slope, polishing off the last bits of a rabbit.

"Yrael, Yrael!" called Kibeth, and Yrael laid his ears flat and did not bother to look up. "You're late for lunch - too bad! I suppose you have another brilliant idea about how I should be spending my time."

"Belgaer and I were creating the loveliest plants. They smelled absolutely marvelous!" said Kibeth. "Come and make plants with us, Yrael!"

Yrael sniggered. "You're fond of _plants_ now? I've seen you munching on a nice gazelle, Kibeth, all fresh hot blood and meat, yum. Thank you, but no." He transformed himself into a hawk, with feathers colored ivory and silver, and flew off over the slope and out of sight.

Kibeth nosed at what was left of her brother's prey, but Yrael had been very thorough. She bounded down the slope and crossed the steppes beyond until she came to a barren, rocky plain with pillars and blocks of stone. The wind was roaring through them, and Kibeth could feel the very ground shaking. She knew it was the voice of her sister Saraneth that made the stones tremble. Saraneth roared into sight as a pillar of spinning air and sand, twining among the masses of rock and scouring and carving them into wondrous shapes. Kibeth could not manage it at first, but at last she also rose up and whirled and gathered the sand to herself. Together they shaped the bones of the earth into arches and columns and tables, streaked in ochre and russet and cream, and strangely soft and smooth to the touch. Kibeth caressed the shapely stone with her sandy edges and sighed with wonder.

"Yrael loves to scratch the earth," she said.

Saraneth spun slower and slower, until she dropped down to stand on the ground as a tall being with two legs and two arms and a head, like a woman but much taller. "He doesn't like to expend more effort than he must, little Walker."

"Even so," said Kibeth, and she whirled off to find her youngest brother. Yrael was sitting on a seemingly inaccessible bit of cliff, washing himself.

"Yrael, Yrael!" howled Kibeth, and Yrael crouched down and snarled. "You're getting sand in my eyes! And my fur! Stop that! What are you doing, you oaf?"

"Saraeth and I were carving rocks. We made them all lovely and smooth!" crooned Kibeth. "Come and shape rocks with us, Yrael!"

Yrael hissed. "What a waste of energy! You are becoming completely demented, Kibeth. Thank, you but no." He turned into a long-legged spider, as pale as milk, and ran up the face of the cliff.

Kibeth ground away the cliff for a few minutes, polishing it as smooth as glass, but Yrael was not coming back. She dropped down to the stony earth and sought out more convivial company. As the sun began to set, she wandered through a green and open countryside, dotted with copses of trees, and she knew that her brother Dyrim was near. She found him in the shape of a tall human man with a fine grey beard, standing by a bonfire in a village of human people, telling tales that made them stare with silent wonder. Then he began to chant, his voice mellow and melodious, and they sighed and smiled and beat the ground in rhythm to his voice. So Kibeth became a human woman, plump and golden-skinned, and told the people tales that made them chuckle and chortle, and then she sang them songs so that they rose to their feet and danced. Soon Kibeth and Dyrim had their arms linked with the villagers as they pranced in a long serpent among and around the little grass-thatched houses, and Kibeth looked at her brother and grinned.

"Yrael loves to use his voice with skill," she said.

Dyrim gently disengaged his arms from those of the villagers and led her off to where they could speak unheard. "He does not care to use it to please others, little Walker."

Kibeth pretended she did not hear and danced off to find her youngest brother. Yrael was stretched out in the shade of a hedge, watching the last light fade from the sky.

"Yrael, Yrael!" sang Kibeth, and Yrael shut his eyes and sighed. "You again! I have not really been trying to hide, you know. Next time, I shall make certain that you never find me. I suppose you have another brilliant idea?"

"Dyrim and I were entertaining a village of humankind. We spoke and we sang, and they loved us!" said Kibeth. "Come and tell tales and sing songs with us, Yrael!"

Yrael curled his lips back in disgust. "Human beings! Why would I want to please a band of hairless apes, Kibeth? Thank you, but no!" He made himself into a bright-eyed little lizard with pale scales that glimmered in the twilight and ran under the hedge.

Kibeth cast back and forth along the hedge, in case he should decide to come out again, but soon she grew bored. She became a wolf and wandered off into the night. She came to a hill and ran to the top to admire the moon and sing to her, but suddenly all her fur stood on end, and she knew her sibling Orannis was near. She found Orannis as a cloud of darkness, denser than the night, in the bottom of a barren valley, and when she saw what her last sibling was doing, she tucked her long tail between her legs and trembled.

"Yrael would never do that," she said.

Orannis did not hear her, or perhaps that one ignored her. And not one word did Orannis say to her.

Kibeth backed away, silent for once, and then ran like the wind to find her youngest brother. She looked high, and low, and in between, and finally, at sunrise, she found him high in a tree in a jungle, perched on a branch, watching the birds with sleepy eyes as they woke and greeted the dawn.

"Yrael, Yrael!" she whimpered, and Yrael turned his head slowly and stared at her. "That does not sound much like you. What has happened? Aren't you going to tell me that I'm supposed to run off with you and do something with Orannis?"

"I didn't want to do what Orannis was doing, and I don't think you would wish to, either," said Kibeth.

"Why, what was Orannis doing?"

"Destroying things. Hatefully. Blasting little creatures to bits. Burning trees to ashes. Blowing other animals to bloody rags, and making the bits crumble to dust. And enjoying it." And Kibeth clung to the branch with three hand-paws and covered her eyes with the fourth.

Yrael watched her for a moment and then closed his eyes and gagged as though he had eaten something bitter. "That is stupidity, and a waste," he said, at last. "No, Kibeth, I don't want to do that, either."

"I am glad to hear it," said Kibeth, uncovering her eyes and looking at him sadly. Yrael washed one paw carefully, and then said "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"You've done what Astarael, Mosrael, Ranna, Belgaer, Saraneth, and Dyrim wanted to do. What does Kibeth want to do?"

Kibeth thought for a moment. "I think I should like to take a walk."

"A walk? That's all? You're certain?"

"Yes, just a walk."

Yrael yawned mightily and stretched. "I think I could manage that. Yes, a walk. Thank you, Kibeth."

Kibeth sneezed with surprise. They climbed down from the tree, and Yrael stretched his legs until he was as tall as she. They wandered off side by side through the morning, in the seventh era of the world, soft with green and growing life.

**Author's Note:**

>  **End notes:** As smilla guessed, one of my inspirations here was _The Just So Stories_. The other was the ballad "Two Magicians" (Child 44), versions of which have been recorded in recent-ish years by Martin Carthy and by Steeleye Span.


End file.
